


Champion

by sunflowerwonder



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ancient Rome, Gladiator AU, M/M, Propositions, Sexual implications, Sponsorship, historical fiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-19 23:29:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9465416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerwonder/pseuds/sunflowerwonder
Summary: The drains lead out to the dusty streets beside the coliseum. Puddles of water dampen the ends of Dirk’s robes. The unpolished tile of the floor is cracked in more than a few places, sharp like crushed pottery. Yet it’s a hauntingly appropriate atmosphere to meet a hero. More suitable than any lavish banquet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A [Tumblr drabble](http://dirkar.tumblr.com/post/152390108456/screams-loudly-about-stribirds-dirkjake) originally inspired by [Stribird's](http://stribird.tumblr.com/) Gladiator AU.

Even in the dark of the lower baths, Dirk can still see the sweat glistening off warm skin, the ripple of tenseness between muscles, and the sharp gaze catching his own. So foreign, so green.

The baths are for victors, but still far beneath Dirk’s class. They’re dark except for small squares of light filtering in from skipped bricks near the ceiling. The drains lead out to the dusty streets beside the coliseum. Puddles of water dampen the ends of Dirk’s robes. The unpolished tile of the floor is cracked in more than a few places, sharp like crushed pottery. Yet it’s a hauntingly appropriate atmosphere to meet a hero. More suitable than any lavish banquet.

There’s a splash as a jug of water is poured over bloodied shoulders. It echoes the throes of the great crowd now filtering from their seats. Dirk watches the gladiator, his gladiator, rinse himself of lion’s blood like dust from sandals. The disposed pink water rushes across the tiles and threatens to pool at Dirk’s shoes before sinking down the nearest drain. (Dirk hopes it will stain the leather.)

“I’m afraid I’m not at my best,” the gladiator says, setting the clay jug down with a heavy thunk that echoes in Dirk’s chest. “I don’t wish to sorrow your presence with my appearance.”

“My presence is actually quite happy with your appearance,” Dirk responds, as easily as he can with ever-widening eyes. The gladiator turns towards him fully. He’s naked, his minimal armor strewn across a peg on the far wall.

“Well if you don’t mind my starkness, it’s an honor to meet you, ah…”

“Dirk,” Dirk says, slightly breathless. “My brother is General David Strider of the Empire.”

The gladiator bows his head in respect. “Dirk Strider,” he says. “You may call me Jacob, or Jake. Consider my fight in your honor, my respect second only to the Emperor.”

Dirk smiles at this. “You’re as charming in person as you are in battle,” he says.

“Thank you, sir.”

“I wish to reward you for your admirable vigor today. It put excitement in my chest as few others have. It made me…”

Jake looks up at him.

“…Made me,” he falters. “Feel. Something. Rare and precious.”

“It’s rare and precious to hear such words from someone of your standing,” Jake replies, humble and strong and deep in a way that cuts Dirk to his core.

“A feast,” Dirk says. “In your honor.”

“An honor simply to attend,” Jake replies.

“5,000 denarii,” Dirk continues.

“An awe-striking sum.”

“Care and lodgings for the week. My servants are yours.”

“Your kindness knows few bounds.”

“A new chariot.”

“Too kind, too grand.”

“And my bed,” Dirk says, words sticking to his throat as they exit. Sloppy and rushed. “…If you’ll have me.”

The gladiator stills at this. His eyes flash with confusion, briefly, then settle upon something much, much darker. Dirk watches as he takes a steadying breath at the proposition. Watches him shift where he stands. Watches him form a broad smile.

“Why, sir,” Jake says. “I can think of no greater honor.”


End file.
